


'Twas the Night Before Christmas

by buttercupcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cas owns an animal shelter, Dean Has a Cat, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Hand Jobs, Kinda, M/M, Minor Anxiety, Nurse Dean, Oral Sex, Rimming, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Cas, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Veterinarian Castiel, slight oral fixation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercupcas/pseuds/buttercupcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snowy Christmas Eve finds Dean at an animal shelter with the hopes of adopting a dog so he won't have to spend Christmas alone. </p><p>He doesn't expect to be talked into taking home a cat by the handsome owner named Castiel. Especially considering he's allergic. </p><p>Fluff and smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some characters that are tagged are only mentioned and don't actually appear, or appear in non-human form.
> 
> While this starts at Christmas time, it's not exactly a Christmas fic.
> 
> Special thanks to Izzy for helping me beta this, and to Lena for all of the love and support. I love you both, and this wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for you two.
> 
> Please remember this is British English, so if you see something that you think is a spelling error, chances are it's because you use American English. If I've missed any tags, please let me know so I can add them in. Thank you in advance for reading this. This is my first fic, so please be kind.

The moment Dean enters the animal shelter, his senses are overwhelmed. A recorded mix of animal noises starts to play in place of an ordinary chime, while Dean’s nostrils are assaulted by a combined scent of animal fur, disinfectant and human odours. The warmth of the front entrance is a sudden but welcome change to the arctic Christmas Eve weather that awaits him outside. 

The front room of the shelter is small and cosy, the walls painted a happy yellow. It gives Dean faith that he's making the right decision. The side on the right of the door is lined with chairs; every other available surface is covered in either posters of animals, or products for them. Along the wall directly opposite Dean is a door that presumably leads to the kennels, which is behind a wooden front counter. Dean eyes the door with a mix of trepidation and excitement. 

_A dog will be great for me. Who else am I doing to spend Christmas with?_ Dean sighs, inwardly cursing his lack of funds, and feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to fly out to his brother for the holidays. 

“Can I help you?” A deep voice asks, unexpectedly close. Dean wipes the melted snow from his eyelashes, tugs off his beanie and tucks it into his back pocket. 

Dean looks to his left and is drawn to a pair of shockingly electric blue eyes, and then drawn further down to a wide, pink mouth, with lips that look like they've been abused by the wind. His eyes follow the natural path to a jawline that makes him weak at the knees, paired with the dark scruff that adorns it. He has a shock of dark hair on his head to match, looking extremely rumpled. The man in question is standing on a small stool, arms stretched above him to wrangle a wayward piece of tinsel that just won't stay up. Dean's eyes drop to the stretch of skin visible between a pair of well-worn jeans and a god-awful Christmas sweater that makes him cringe. The man raises his eyebrows questioningly and Dean realises he forgot to answer the question in his blatant once-over of the blue-eyed stranger.

“Shit, sorry. I-I'm uh, here to get a pet?” Dean's face burns as his tongue trips over the sentence. 

“Becoming a pet owner is a considerably large responsibility,” Blue Eyes remarks. His already deep voice lowers with an intonation of sincerity. “You should make sure you're certain before you commit to it. They need a loving and stable home.”

Dean cringes and hurries to reply. “No, no I know I want a pet. Sorry. You just kinda caught me off guard, I guess.” He flashes a friendly smile in Blue Eyes direction. 

In lieu of response, Blue Eyes lithely jumps down from the stool and lands confidently on both feet, the concerned expression on his face now relaxed into something more friendly. He closes the distance between them and stands entirely too close to Dean with his hand outstretched. 

“I am Castiel, owner of this shelter. Forgive my abruptness with you just now, but many bright-eyed new pet owners wind up bringing back their animals once they've outgrown their apparent usefulness.” 

Dean eagerly reaches out to grasp Castiel's hand, shivering slightly when their palms touch. He curls his fingers around his hand, delighting in the sensation that shoots through his body. 

“Heya, Cas. M'names Dean. No harm no foul, man.” 

Dean chuckles slightly and continues. “I don't think I'll be bringing mine back. I, uh, actually want one for the company. And friendship.” Dean lowers his eyes as he speaks, worried about the reaction that might garner. He's essentially admitting to being in his late twenties and alone. Not an all together usual situation. But he needn't have worried.

“Well then, Dean. Let's find you a friend.” Cas' eyes sparkle with excitement as he leads the way to the front desk. “I have a database with all the animals currently being housed here. I find it much more efficient then keeping a hard copy of files, don't you think?” He makes his way around the desk and stands at the desktop computer that sits there, looking oddly modern and out of place in the outdated shelter. 

Dean starts to reply, but is cut off by Cas' enthusiastic chattering. “It's actually a rather new feature for my shelter. My best friend insisted she 'bring me out of the dark ages.' I'm also online, now.' Cas makes a slight face at his last sentence, but it's full of obvious tenderness for his friend. 

Dean feels his heart warm with a gentle swell of affection for this virtual stranger. “That's ah, that's great.” 

Cas makes no reply, his eyes glued to the keyboard as he determinedly punches in information. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Dean's stomach swoops. Cas, completely unaware to Dean's oral fixation, gently worries his lower lip between his teeth before he starts muttering unintelligibly under his breath. A triumphant noise escapes Cas' throat and Dean jerks out of his stupor, dragging his eyes away from Cas' mouth and up to his striking eyes. 

“I believe I have found the perfect animal for you, Dean. Her name is Jo. She is three years old and has been with me for a few months. Her previous owners were …” Cas trails off, eyes flashing dangerously. “Calling them human is too big of a compliment. Subsequently, she's missing an ear and parts of her body remain hairless, but aside from that she's in top condition. Do you want to meet her?” Cas' eyes shine with hope, and Dean would find it impossible to deny him even if he wanted to. 

“Lead the way,” Dean replies, smiling. Cas gives him a gentle smile back, and they spend just a moment too long to gazing into each others eyes. Cas' eyes widen slightly as though he's made the same realisation as Dean and snaps out of it. He wordlessly makes his way to the door behind the desk, gesturing for Dean to follow. 

Their arms brush against one another as they walk side by side, but neither one makes a move to distance themselves, so Dean allows himself to relish in the simple contact. It's been so long since he's spent much time with anyone other than his co-workers at hospital, and Dean is grateful for this chance. It doesn't hurt that Cas is ridiculously hot, either. 

They make their way through a series of hallways lined with doors, which Dean assumes are examination rooms. Cas confirms as much, providing commentary as they make their way to a final door, this one set with a digital passcode.

“This is the entrance to the kennels,” Cas explains. The lock beeps after Castiel punches a code in and a light flashes green before it releases, and Cas pulls the door open. 

A pungent scent of pure animal hits Dean like walking into a brick wall, and Dean struggles to breathe through his nose. The air feels heavier back here, the presence of all the sheltered animals weighing heftily in the atmosphere. Cas seems utterly indifferent to the change in air, so Dean doesn't make a comment. Apart from a quiet yapping and soft yowling, the kennels are surprisingly quiet. 

The door leads into a main hallway, with multiple others branching off left and right, and more off those. Dean's eyes start to strain as he tries to pick out different pathways. Cas confidently leads them with a clear destination in mind. They pass dog after dog, most either dozing or watching them pass disinterestedly. They start to pass empty kennels, and Dean worriedly looks behind them.

“Uh, Cas? I think we passed all the dogs.” 

“Dogs?” Cas laughs as they make a right turn into another hallway and finally come to a stop outside a cage. “Dean, Jo is a cat.” 

“Oh.” And then Dean sneezes.

Dean feels his eyes beginning to water and a tickle forms in the back of this throat. Cas, oblivious to Dean's distress, is detaching a set of keys from a belt loop in his jeans. He starts clicking his tongue, calling out to Jo. Meanwhile, Dean is fighting every urge his body is having to sneeze and cough out a decent portion of his lungs. 

Cas reaches into the large cage and lifts a dozing cat from its plush, sandy coloured bed, not dissimilar to the colour of its fur. The sleeping cat opens her eyes, looking thoroughly displeased at being manhandled. Dean can't say he would feel the same if he were being manhandled by those hands. Cas' hands are tanned and elegant, and Dean feels a thrill run through his body as he imagines them pushing his chest forcefully back against a wall, their owner leaning in to press heated kisses to Dean's throat. 

Dean is snapped out of his fantasy as Jo begins to meow unhappily. Cas glances at Dean for the first time since arriving at Jo's cage, surprise on his face. “Dean, are you okay? Your eyes are looking red.” 

Dean hesitates before answering. If he doesn't take this cat home, there is a high chance he will never get to see Cas again, and he's sure Cas won't let him take Jo if he knows about Dean's allergy. It's not like his allergy is _lethal_. It's just a slight inconvenience. Nothing that can't be fixed with over-the-counter medication, right? Although, if he does take Jo home, what reasons will he have to see Cas anyway? 

_He does seem awfully attached to her,_ Dean muses. _And I'm sure cats get sick all the time._

“It's nothing, I kicked my toe. I'm fine,” Dean rattles out nervously. Cas, sufficiently distracted by the struggling cat in his arms, is satisfied with his answer. 

“So? Would you like to hold her?” Cas asks, holding Jo out to Dean expectantly. 

Dean eyes Jo with barely concealed apprehension; Jo eyes Dean with blatant disdain. 

“Sure thing,” Dean responds weakly. 

Cas' face scrunches up into a smile, his lips revealing straight, white teeth and a ridiculously gummy smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle in an endearing display of happiness, and Dean can't help but feel a little more obsessed with this man. Dean's mouth curves into a responding smile, albeit softer, but no less genuine. His eyes lock onto Cas' baby blues, and his heart gives a dull thud. 

“Lay her on me, Cas,” Dean smirks. His false bravado is going a long way to conceal his anxiety about holding a cat. 

Cas reaches out with Jo as Dean opens his arms to receive her. The instant she is placed in his arms, Dean feels an intense need to sneeze. _Hold it in, do not sneeze, do not sneeze all over this cat, c'mon Dean, wait unitl you're in the car and then you can sneeze all you want._ Surprisingly enough, Dean's chant works. The urge doesn't fade, but he finds he can hold it back. 

Jo peers curiously into Dean's eyes, her chocolate brown eyes looking weary. Her right ear is perked up, her left missing. Her soft, pale coloured fur is sparse and patchy. She's rather small, but the glint in her eyes more than makes up for that. 

“She must like you. It took well over a week before she would let me hold her without trying to claw my eyes out,” Cas says seriously. 

“You're joking,” Dean replies flatly, holding Jo slightly further away from his face. 

“Only slightly. It was actually three weeks.” 

They begin the return journey, retracing the same path they took. This time as they pass the dogs, they perk up in interest, noses twitching as they sniff the air for Jo's scent. Jo looks bored, and begins grooming her front paws as Dean cradles her in his arms. Her weight against his chest is comforting, like a constant ache finally being relieved. Cas relocks the passcode protected door, and they head back to the front room. 

When they enter, Castiel checks his computer for the time. It reads 6:11pm. 

“I gotta say, Cas, I wasn't expecting you to be open this late on Christmas Eve. Isn't anyone at home missing you?” Dean's heart beats slightly faster as he awaits Cas' answer. 

Cas smiles slightly. “No. No, it's just me this Christmas. And the animals, of course.” 

Cas busies himself on the computer, and Dean walks around to the other side of the desk so he is standing in front of it. Jo swipes at Dean's arm in boredom and lightly nicks him with her claws. 

“I assume you're going to be needing things for Jo,” Cas states, rather than asking. He points to the wall and free standing shelf full of cat supplies. 

Dean flounders for a minute, unsure what things he should be buying for Jo, before stating decisively, “You know her best; you pick out what she'll need.” 

Cas obliges, and comes out from behind the desk. His muscular thighs catch Dean's attention, and for the life of him Dean can't tear his eyes away from them as they ripple with movement. 

“Meow,” Jo says accusingly. 

“Oh, shaddup,” Dean mumbles under his breath. 

Half an hour later, Dean has signed copious amounts of paperwork, paid for an exuberant amount of provisions for Jo and forced back numerous sneezes and coughs at the risk of fracturing his ribs. Dean may have purposely dawdled his way through the paperwork while he listened to Cas talking about the shelter. 

“Well, Dean, I think you're all set.” 

Dean's unsure if it's his own feelings projecting, but Cas sounds as reluctant as Dean feels to end the evening. 

“Right. I – um. Thanks, Cas. Really.” Dean glances shyly up at Cas from under his lashes. “I wasn't looking forward to spending Christmas alone. I mean, I'm alone most of the time but. I just – thank you.” 

Cas smiles tenderly at Dean. “No Dean, thank _you._ I was beginning to think Jo would never find her forever home. I can't thank you enough. I'm sure if Jo could talk, she too would be thanking you.” 

Dean feels a blush burning his cheeks as he ducks his head and grabs the back of his neck in an uncharacteristic display of humility. 

“Aw, it's nothin' Cas, really.” 

They spend a few moments sharing a soft smile, until Jo reminds them of her presence with a rather loud yowl. 

“I guess I oughta be on my way then,” Dean says, rather glumly. Cas grins at his tone, and Dean is too preoccupied petting Jo's head to notice. 

“I hope you and Jo are very happy together, Dean. Have a good Christmas.” 

“Thanks, Cas. You too. Merry Christmas.” 

Dean pulls his beanie out from his back pocket and pulls it down over his head with one hand, before collecting his plethora of bags from the desk. He throws a wave over his shoulder in Cas' direction before stepping out of the inviting warmth of the shelter, and back into the biting cold and flurry of snow outside. 

**** 

Christmas for Dean passes without much fanfare. He doesn't get out of bed until after ten, reluctant to exchange the warmth his body created overnight for the chill of his apartment. He makes a phone call to Sam, and they exchange a few cursory greetings before Sam is dragged away by his fiancé, Jess, and their screaming newborn. An unwelcome feeling of abandonment spreads through his chest, and he sighs. He really misses his brother. 

Jo chooses that moment to nuzzle her way into Dean's arms. He tosses her a smile and rubs his face against the soft fur on the crown of her head. His thoughts drift to Cas, and the dark feelings swirling around inside him are replaced with a swarm of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He isn't sure what to do with them, but for now he's going to pat his new cat and think about the man he bought her from. 

Dean spends his day preparing a turkey dinner for just himself. Admittedly, he is aware that it is a bit extravagant for one person, but he can't bring himself to eat a frozen store-bought dinner on Christmas. Jo quickly discovers her favourite spots to laze around, one of them being on top of Dean's feet. It makes moving around in the kitchen a rather cumbersome task, but the love it instils in Dean makes it worth it. 

Come nightfall, Dean is relaxing on the couch absently watching _It's A Wonderful Life_ on T.V with Jo curled up on his chest, purring lowly in contentment. He spares a thought for Cas, curious about how his Christmas is going. Dean falls asleep like that; his thoughts on Cas' gentle smile, the T.V providing soft background noise, and Jo snoring lightly. 

**** 

It feels like Dean blinks and misses New Years Eve. It's already a week into the new year, and as usual, nothing feels different. Despite the welcome change Jo has brought, he feels like he's missing something. Or someone. A certain someone that may or may not have been starring in Dean's fantasies while he jacks off in the shower. But hey, that's between him and his shower. And Jo, if we're counting that one time she pushed the door open to see what all the noise was about. _He probably doesn't even remember me. God, he probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Shit, what if he's straight?_

Dean groans aloud and glances to his right at Jo. She's currently zipped away in her cat carrier, sitting in the passenger seat in Baby, looking rather displeased with the change of location. 

“Don't look at me like that. We're going to visit Cas. Don't ya' miss him? He's kinda like your dad, I guess. I know I'm your daddy too, but Cas is like your other one. Not that you're our kid. God, please don't tell Cas I said that.” Jo gives an unimpressed meow at that, and Dean smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Jo. Now, do me a favour and act like you ate a bar of soap.” 

The drive to the shelter is quick, and they arrive before Dean has the time to adequately prepare himself. He pulls up into the parking lot, and slides Baby smoothly into a park. As he pulls the keys out of the ignition, he peeks over at Jo, who has perked up in anticipation. Dean can relate. His stomach is in knots, and he's having trouble believing what's happening. 

“Shit,” Dean mutters, his breath coming too quick. His chest restricts, and he slumps over and rests his head on the steering wheel. “Fuck, Jo. What am I doing? He's going to see right through me. I'm going to look desperate. Why did I think this was a good idea?!” Dean moans and bangs his head against the wheel over and over, until Jo lets out an angry screech and grabs Dean's attention. He looks over at her and finds her watching him reproachfully. 

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “I'm just nervous about seeing Cas. I really like him.” Dean's voice is soft with emotion. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean sits up straighter and squares his shoulders. Fighting against the tiny voice inside his head screaming at him to start the car back up to avoid humiliation, he exits the car and walks around to Jo's side and grabs her carrier from the seat. 

Entering the animal shelter gives Dean a weird sense of déjà vu. Not that Dean was expecting anything to be different. It remains the same, excluding the lack of Christmas decorations. Like last time, it is void of other patrons. The annoyingly loud door chime starts up, the sound of a multitude of animals grating Dean's already frayed nerves. 

“I'll be with you in a moment,” comes a gravelly voice from behind the desk. 

Dean turns his head the direction of the sound, breath hitching when he sees Castiel. His head is down, eyes narrowed with a laser-sharp focus on the computer. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his plush, pink lips slightly apart. A rush of excitement spreads through Dean's veins as he takes in Cas' toned form. The warm interior of the shelter makes it possible for Cas to only be wearing a pair of dark jeans and a fitted, heather grey v-neck shirt. His leanly muscled arms are tanned, despite it being well into winter. Dean licks his lips. 

“Take your time,” Dean manages to croak out. 

Cas' head snaps up faster then Dean thought possible, and a genuine smile lights up his face. _Whoa,_ he thinks. _My memory did not do him justice._

“Dean! I didn't expect to be seeing you again so soon.” Dean experiences a flutter in his heart at the happiness Cas is exuding. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean grins. He feels his insides light up, and he really hopes his enthusiasm isn't obvious. “Me either, actually. But Jo here, ah, well. She got into my bathroom, and ate a bar of soap.” His face burns as he lies, certain he is going straight to hell for this. He holds his breath as he waits for Cas' response. 

“I see,” Cas responds sombrely. “I'll have to take her out back for an examination. Has she been sick at all? Where were you, Dean?” 

“No, she seemed fine. I just thought it probably wasn't good for her. I, um. I'm not a bad owner, Cas, I swear.” 

Dean sweats as he realises his lie may backfire in an unexpected way. A bead of sweat pools on his upper lip and he swipes his tongue out to catch it. Cas tears his eyes away from Dean's mouth and flashes a wide grin in Dean's direction. 

“I'm joking, Dean. Relax. She's probably fine. I will still give her a check up, but soap is relatively harmless.” 

Dean lets out a bark of laughter, and Cas' eyes sparkle with mirth. 

“That was mean, Cas. Really had me worried.” 

“I apologise. I'll endeavour to be kinder to you in the future.” 

A warmth that has nothing to do with temperature envelops Dean at the mention of a future meeting. 

“So. Shall we?” 

Cas gestures to the door that leads to the back of the shelter, and Dean adjusts his grip on Jo's carrier and walks through as Cas holds it open for him. 

“Normally we have more staff, but today was quiet and I sent the vet home,” Cas tells Dean while they walk down the hallway. “I have a veterinary degree, so I can perform Jo's examination.” 

This time, they stay in the first hallway and enter the second door on the right. The room is sparsely furnished; along the back wall is a sink and a set of cupboards and draws. There is a high, metal table in the middle of the room with a set of scales resting on it. Aside from that, the room is empty and sterile, the pale grey walls giving off an air of impersonality. 

Dean places Jo's carrier on the metal table and unzips it, reaching in to extract his yowling cat. Jo hisses and lashes out with her claws. 

“Shit,” Dean curses and drops her on the table. Jo struts over to where Cas is standing on the other side of the table and sits demurely in front of him. 

“Traitor,” Dean grumbles. 

Cas lets out a loud laugh, and Dean stares, transfixed. He almost looks like a different person, his naturally serious expression no where to be found. Cas' laugh fades into silence, but Dean does not stop staring. Cas stares back, blue locked onto green, and Dean gulps. The silence stretches, not awkwardly, but with a kind of tension Dean can't put into words. 

Jo swipes at Cas and breaks the connection as Cas glances down to smile at her. 

“Right, you little minx. Let's get you sorted.” 

Cas is efficient but thorough. He works mostly in silence, opting to concentrate on everything he is doing. Dean finds it extremely difficult to look away from Cas. He moves elegantly and surely, confident in his actions. Every time Cas' hands catch Dean's attention, he feels a quiver in his naval. 

As they near the end, Dean hopelessly tries to think of something to say. He didn't fake a sick cat just to stare at the dude's hands, for Christ's sake. _Just say anything, damn it. He probably thinks you're an idiot anyway, what have you got to lose?_

Just as Dean opens his mouth to talk, Cas takes a breath and looks up from where he is working on Jo. 

“Dean. I feel rather imbalanced. You know where I work, so it's only fair you tell me what you do.” Cas smiles at Dean before looking back down at Jo. 

“I'm a nurse,” Dean responds apprehensively. Not all people think nursing is something a man should do. If Cas responds negatively to this, Dean will be walking out with Jo and not coming back. 

“A very noble career, then. I should have guessed as such.” 

“Running an animal shelter is a helluva lot more noble than what I do, Cas. I just change sheets and clean bedpans,” Dean jokes. 

Cas' brow furrows, and he looks displeased. “You shouldn't downplay your work. Nursing is an extremely onerous career; you should be proud.” 

At a loss for words, Dean ducks his head as he feels a blush creep up his cheeks. 

“Thanks, Cas,” he whispers. 

“My pleasure.” 

Soon after, Cas gives Jo a clear bill of health. 

“She's perfectly healthy. Just try and close your bathroom door from now on.” 

Dean belatedly realises he should looked relieved. Instead, he has been caught staring at Cas' thighs and hurries to make up for it. “Oh, thank God. That's, wow. Such a relief. She had me worried.” 

Cas smirks and inclines his head in agreement. “Yes, thank God.” 

Dean has a feeling he isn't referring to Jo's health. 

Walking close together, they make their way to the front room, Jo safely back in her carrier which is being held by Cas. The back of their hands graze, and Dean feels a tingle all the way down to his toes. Dean rushes to reach the door first and pulls it open, gesturing for Cas to go through ahead of him. He smiles in thanks, and Dean thinks he could look at his smile forever. 

Once Dean is standing back in front of the desk, Cas reaches out and sets the carrier on top of it. 

“What do I owe you, Cas?” 

“Nothing. Free of charge. Consider it my thanks for looking after Jo so well. She really does seem happy with you, Dean. And you, with her.” 

Dean wonders if Cas would say the same if he saw the stockpile of allergy medication Dean has already amassed. 

“I am,” Dean assures him. “Honestly? She's easy to love.” 

“She's not the only one, I'm sure.” 

Dean's eyes widen, wondering if Cas could possibly mean what Dean _thinks_ he means. Cas just smiles, and lets the moment pass. 

“I'll, um, be seeing you later, then?” 

“Until next time, Dean.” 

**** 

Over the next few months, Dean finds himself creating reasons to go visit Cas at the shelter. At least once every three weeks Dean will arrive, Jo in her carrier, the latter having no say in any of this. One time, he tells Cas she hit her head against a wall (though, in all fairness, she did; Dean just slightly exaggerated the severity of the bump). Another time, he says Jo made her way into the fridge where she stayed for half an hour. There are stomach bugs and runny poops, smelly breath and a refusal to eat. Odd behaviour, needing to be de-sexed (she already was, that one was a bit harder to lie his way out of), and the list goes on. 

Every time Dean walks in, Cas looks inexplicably happy to see him. Dean can't explain it. He certainly doesn't understand it, but who is he to question it? If it makes Cas happy, Dean will continue his facade of having the world's most prone-to-illnesses cat. 

Not to mention how precious those moments with Cas are to Dean. There's just something about him. It's his smile, his kind eyes. His dark, messy hair. His way with words. It's the way he looks at Dean, like he's something special. His kindness with animals. It's all of those things, combined into one perfect package. 

Each visit, Dean learns something new about Cas. His full name is Castiel James Novak. He is 32, making him three years older than Dean. He is originally from Chicago. He has four brothers, the names of whom Dean won't even attempt to recall. He originally studied religion, but changed his mind halfway through and switched to a veterinary major. His parents passed away when he was just a child, and his oldest brother took on the role as their guardian. 

He also pries information out of Dean, which is somewhat unexpected. Dean tells him about his mother passing away when he was young, too. About his alcoholic father who was steadfastly against Dean becoming a nurse. About his younger brother, Sammy, whom he practically raised. He tells him that moving away from Sammy was the hardest thing Dean has ever had to do, but he got a scholarship at the University of Washington that he couldn't turn down. 

They grow steadily closer, Dean staying longer each time, Cas taking his time with his examinations of Jo. 

Jo seems fed up with Dean's course of action. She puts up a fight whenever Dean tries to wrangle her into her cat carrier, and his arms bear matching scars to prove it. 

Eventually, everything comes to a head. Though, not exactly how Dean expected. 

**** 

The drive to the shelter today is unusually quiet, but Dean can't pinpoint why that is so he shakes off the feeling of something being not quite right. He pulls up, and parks in his usual spot. He has learnt the busiest times at the shelter, which he does his best to avoid. When Cas is overworked, he has less time to spend with Dean. It ends up being counter-productive, seeing as Cas is the only reason Dean goes. Currently, the only cars parked in the lot are Dean's Impala, and Cas' silver Civic. He smiles, knowing this means they will be the only two in the shelter today. 

Dean opens the door, and winces at the chime. It doesn't matter how many times Dean walks through this door, that chime will _always_ be annoying. 

“Dean?” Cas, as usual, is behind the computer. He looks confused, but no less happy to see Dean. “Where's Jo? Is she okay?” 

Fuck. Jo. 

Dean feels his face turn crimson almost instantaneously and he ducks his head. He bites down on his lower lip as he runs his hands through his hair, thinking hard. 

“Dean,” Castiel says slowly, “Did you forget her?” 

Dean looks up, struggling to meet Cas' eyes for the first time since they met, unsure where to start. 

“Dean, look at me.” 

Cas' voice is soft, but firm, and Dean obeys. He raises his eyes from Cas' mouth and into his bright eyes. 

“I don't know what to say,” Dean whispers. Shame floods through his body and he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“It's okay. I know, Dean.” Cas smiles. 

“You know what?” Dean asks nervously. 

“I _know,_ Dean. How many times a year do you think I usually see a pet owner?” 

Dean's stomach drops. 

“Aw fuck. I-I'm just gonna,” Dean jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the door. “I'll just-” 

“Stay.” 

He looks at Cas, eyes wide. 

“Please, Dean.” 

Dean slowly approaches the desk, eyes shining with hope. Cas has a soft expression, his lips upturned and his eyes glued to Dean's. 

“I don't know what to say,” Dean repeats. His face still feels warm, blush not yet faded. 

Cas steps out from behind the counter, stopping a mere foot from Dean. 

“May I ask you a question?” Cas inquires. 

Dean nods slowly, barely daring to breathe. 

“Do you like me?” 

Dean nods again, not trusting his voice enough to use it. 

Cas' face lights up in a blinding smile. Dean has a thought that Cas could give the a sun a run for its money. His heart skips a beat and he reminds himself to keep breathing. 

“I like you, too.” 

Castiel takes a step closer, his chest almost brushing against Dean's. Dean's heart is pounding, excitement coursing through his veins. His eyes dip down to Cas' lips, and Cas' tongue peeks out to wet them. His eyes flick back up to see Cas' own fixated on Dean's mouth, and realises he still has his lower lip caught between his teeth. He releases it and takes a shuddering breath, leaning forward into Cas' space. Dean searches Cas' face for a sign, anything to say he wants this just as much as Dean does. Cas responds by closing the distance. He lifts one hand to frame Dean's jaw, and leans impossibly closer. Their lips almost touch, their hot breath mingling as Cas' thumb rubs back and forth along Dean's cheekbone. Dean closes his eyes and steels his nerves, taking the final step and pressing his parted lips against Cas' and Dean. Just. Melts. 

An explosion of sensation starts where their lips meet, and soon spreads through his entire nervous system. Cas' lips are slightly chapped and dry, the feeling sending sparks behind Dean's closed eyes. Dean reaches up to wrap his arms around Cas' firm shoulders, gripping them tightly as he adjusts his mouth against Cas'. Cas runs his tongue along the seam of Dean's closed mouth and Dean gasps. Cas takes advantage and reaches in with his tongue to press it in alongside Dean's own. He spends a few moments exploring the shape and texture of Dean's tongue before receding to navigate his way around the rest of Dean's mouth, learning every crevice. 

Dean groans as Cas pulls away and catches Dean's bottom lip with his teeth, giving it a sharp tug while he moves his hands down to Dean's waist. They rest their foreheads on each other, panting quietly into the space between their mouths. Dean can still taste Cas, a mix of coffee and cinnamon and something purely Cas. 

Dean keeps his arms around Cas' neck as he slowly opens his eyes. Cas already has his open, his pupils dilated as he looks into Dean's. 

“Wow,” Dean sighs. 

Cas huffs a laughs at that and Dean feels the air against his lips, cool on the drying saliva. Dean runs his tongue along his bottom lip, savouring the last taste of Cas, and Cas' eyes darken as they follow its path. 

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, Cas?” 

“Will you go out with me? On a proper date? I'll pay. It's the least I can do, after all the money you've paid for Jo's treatment of faked ailments.” 

Dean snorts a laugh and his cheeks turn pink. 

“I'd really like that,” he murmurs. 

Castiel smiles at his answer, but Dean frowns with realisation and lifts his head. 

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Cas' voice is laced with anxiety, his eyes searching Dean's for answers. 

“No, no, you're fine. There's just something I should probably tell you.” Dean raises his thumb to his mouth and starts gnawing on his nail, contemplating exactly where to start. 

Cas removes a hand from Dean's waist and gently tugs Dean's hand away from his mouth, threading their fingers together and lowering their hands to rest between their bodies. 

“You can tell me anything,” Cas says earnestly. 

Dean takes a deep breath before he begins. 

“Y'know that night I first came here? On Christmas Eve?” 

“How could I forget?” 

Dean smiles briefly, before his nerves make him frown again, and Cas frowns worriedly in return. 

“Aw, hell, Cas. I thought Jo was gonna be a dog. That's why I said I wanted to meet her. I'm, uh, actually allergic. To cats.” 

Castiel just blinks, uncomprehending. 

“You're what?” 

“I'm allergic to cats. Nothin' major. Just some sneezing and stuff. It's not really a big deal. I just thought maybe I should tell you?” 

Cas' eyes widen comically, his expression aghast. 

“ _Dean Winchester._ Why did you agree to take her?" 

“Cas, really. It's fine. I live on a healthy diet of beer, burgers and allergy medication. _Really, it isn't a big deal,_ ” he adds at Cas' unconvinced expression. “You just, you seemed really hopeful. I didn't want to let you down.” 

Castiel's face visibly softens at that, his eyes shining with warm affection. For Dean. Dean is still struggling to accept that his feelings aren't one sided. 

“If you want to return her, I'll understand.” 

“No!” Dean rushes to reply, barely letting Cas finish talking. “God no. I love her. You were right; she was perfect for me. Thanks for that, Cas.” 

Cas' smirks mischievously. 

“Yes, I am a rather good match maker.” 

Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah? Then what took you so long to match me 'n you?” 

Cas' expression becomes serious, his eyes studying Dean's. 

“I had to be sure. I have a database to match animals with owners. People … they're harder to read than a spreadsheet. But you were worth the wait, Dean.” 

A smile slowly lights up Dean's face, his eyes crinkling in the corners, green eyes sparkling with happiness. 

“Yeah, so were you.” 

**** 

A week and a half later, on a Friday evening, Dean sees Castiel for their date. Cas told Dean to pick where they should go and Dean immediately knew where he wanted to take him. Benny's Diner is a small, old-fashioned thing – the fact that it's barely a ten minute walk from his apartment is a bonus. It's the beginning of spring and though the air is still cold, it has a fresh quality to it that Dean loves. 

Dean glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table which reads 6:37pm. _Shit, he's gonna be here in twenty minutes._ Dean looks hopelessly at the mess of clothes on his bed and back at his now-empty closet. Jo is sitting serenely atop the pile of clothes. 

“Damn it, Jo! Get off my shit, I need to get ready and you're gonna put your fur all over my shirts,” Dean grouches. 

Jo makes no indication that she understands, so Dean lifts her by her midsection and plops her down on his pillows. She eyes him with distaste. Dean assumes she can sense his distress though because she remains where she was placed. 

With frantic actions, Dean rummages through his shirts. He's already decided on a pair of denim jeans that are slightly too tight because Dean knows his ass looks killer in them. 

“What am I _doing?_ ” Dean groans. “This is so stupid. I already know he likes me.” Dean gives up his search for the perfect shirt and settles on a plain black tee with a blue, pink and purple flannel over the top. He smiles at his choice, feeling confident. 

The next fifteen minutes pass in a blur of styling, coiffing and perfecting his hair. At the last minute he drops the towel from around his waist and quickly drags on his clothes. Just as he finishes throwing his leather jacket on over his flannel he hears a knock at the door. 

“Coming!” Dean calls out. 

He dashes around and scoops up his phone, wallet and keys before tucking them into his back pocket. On his way to the door he passes a mirror hanging on his wall and stops to place a few disobedient strands of hair back into place. He takes a calming breath and turns to open the door. 

“Cas,” Dean breathes. 

Cas is standing on the other side of the threshold, looking good enough to eat. He has a pair of dark skinny jeans on and a dark blue henley. His black pea coat is unbuttoned and Dean's eyes pause on the firmness of his stomach under the fitted shirt. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replies. The corners of his lips are upturned in a small smile, his eyes radiating warmth. He passes his eyes over Dean, lingering on his legs. “You look … incredible.” 

“Thanks. You, too,” Dean answers sincerely, ignoring the blush that creeps its way up his face. 

Castiel smiles slightly and his eyes darken when Dean darts his tongue out to wet his lips. Dean gulps. 

“You, uh, wanna come in? It's nothing special.” 

“Later, Dean. I'm feeling rather famished.” Cas' smirks as he speaks, and Dean wonders briefly about what he's gotten himself into. 

Dean walks through the doorway and into the hall and pulls the door shut behind him. He attempts to lock it, but his hands are shaking too much for him to get the key in the hole the first time. He feels an unexpected warmth at his back, and Cas' arm reaches around Dean's body. He covers Dean's hand with his own, steadying it and sliding the key into the lock. 

“Relax,” Cas murmurs, his lips at Dean's ear. “I don't bite. Unless you ask nicely.” 

Dean shudders as Cas' lips brush the shell of his ear, his warm breath sending shivers down Dean's spine. He hears Cas emit a soft chuckle before he steps away and Dean takes a moment to compose himself before he turns around. Cas is standing a few feet away, watching Dean intently. 

“Ready?” Dean asks. 

“Yes. Let's go.” 

They walk down three flights of stairs to reach the ground level of Dean's apartment building. When they exit onto the street, Cas buttons up his coat, his hands steady and sure. 

“Which way are we walking?” Cas raises an eyebrow questioningly at Dean. 

Dean jerks his head to the right. “This way. C'mon,” he answers while turning to start walking. 

They walk in comfortable silence. Every so often their eyes meet as they both catch the other staring, and every time Dean feels breathless as he looks into Castiel's eyes. Their colour should make them appear icy, but Dean has never seen blue eyes that exude so much emotion. 

When they're nearly at the diner, Dean bites his lip and looks down at Cas' hand. It's so close to Dean's. It wouldn't take much for him to reach out and close that gap. They're barely an inch away, but it feels more like a mile. He looks back up, and almost immediately his eyes drift back to Cas' hand. God, Dean didn't think it was possible to be this attracted to hands. He seriously doubts it is. It's probably just a Cas thing. 

A sigh slips past Dean's lips. Cas looks up, and Dean feels his eyes on the side of his face, but Dean is too focused on Cas' hands to acknowledge him. Cas' fingers twitch. Dean stares. They twitch again and Dean continues staring. Eventually, Cas huffs and wriggles his fingers invitingly. 

“Are you going to look at it or hold it?” 

Dean licks his lips and glances up at Cas before looking back down. He reaches out with his hand quickly before Cas can change his mind and snatches up his hand. Their fingers thread together seamlessly. Castiel's palm is warm and soft, Dean's rough and calloused. They compliment each other perfectly. A contentment envelops Dean like a warm hug, and he looks back up into Cas' eyes. Cas is watching him with a look of joy so pure it's almost childish. Dean beams back, and swings their joint hands between them as they near the diner. 

“This is it,” Dean halts and the sudden inertia jerks Cas' body back. 

The exterior of the diner is unimpressive. It has a small entrance with a light-up sign flickering the words “Benny's Diner” above. The inside is much the same. Standard black and white checked tiles cover the large dining space. There is booth seating against the wide windows that look out onto the street; the rest is arranged evenly. The walls are adorned with posters and signed photos of celebrities. A few patrons are seated, but it's relatively quiet. 

“I know it doesn't look like much, but the owner is a friend and the food is great,” Dean enthuses. 

“It's perfect, Dean.” 

Dean leads them to a booth, gesturing for Cas to sit on one side while he slides into the bench opposite. They both remove their coats, placing them on the seat beside them. The tables are Formica. Laminated menus rest against the surface, and Cas reaches out for his while Dean does the same. Not that Dean needs to think about what to order. He gets the same thing every time he comes. 

Dean opts to study Cas' face, while he in turn studies the menu with a slightly intimidating level of gravity. Cas chooses this moment to look up, and Dean winces, caught out. Cas smiles but doesn't mention anything. 

“What do you recommend?” He inquires. 

Dean grins. “I order the same thing every time. Double bacon cheeseburger, beer, and a slice of pie for dessert.” 

Cas nods thoughtfully. “I'll have the same.” 

“I knew I liked you for a reason, Cas,” Dean chuckles. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” a soft, melodic voice chimes. “And who is this?" 

Dean looks up into the smiling face of Missouri, and smiles warmly. 

“Hey, Missouri. This here is Cas,” he gestures with a movement of his head. “He's my date tonight.” He smiles like the cat that ate the canary. 

Missouri lets out a tinkling laugh, and her eyes sparkle knowingly. 

“Hi there, Cas.” 

“Hello, Missouri. It's a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Likewise. Now what can I get you fellas?” 

“The usual, for both of us,” Dean requests. “Is Benny in tonight?” 

“Naw, honey. He has a sick kid at home.” 

Dean nods his head and Missouri gives them a friendly smile before leaving to hand in their order. He looks back over at Cas, who is watching Dean closely. 

“You care deeply about her,” he states. 

Dean nods and turns his eyes to the tabletop. He absently traces patterns on the surface, mulling over his thoughts. 

“When I first moved here, I was 19. I had no one. Barely had enough money to eat. I was sleeping in my car.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I came in here to get a coffee, and Missouri gave me a slice of pie for free. She got me talking, then introduced me to Benny. He owns this joint.” Dean glances up at Cas, who is wearing an unreadable expression, before looking back down at his fidgeting hands. “Benny offered me a job on the spot. My scholarship paid for all my college related expenses, but I had nothing to live off until I started working here.” 

“Dean,” Castiel says softly. 

Dean ignores him, and hurries to finish. “I worked here all throughout college. The people here became my surrogate family, I guess. I try my best to make it in a couple times a month.” 

“Dean.” 

Dean looks up and finds an unreadable emotion swirling in Cas' eyes. 

“I'm glad they were here for you.” 

“Me, too,” Dean whispers. 

The conversation returns to more light-hearted topics. They banter over what shows they like (Dean likes Star Trek, Cas likes Friends), what type of music they listen to (Dean prefers a band named Louden Swain, Cas likes a broad range but makes special mention of a singer named Greg Laswell), and the time passes quickly. Missouri returns with their food, staying to chat for a few moments before making her way back to the kitchen and leaving Cas and Dean alone. 

They quickly work through their food and drinks. Dean is astounded at the speed with which Cas devours his burger. He always thought he ate with gusto, but Cas puts him to shame. He groans with each bite, stopping to suck his fingers clean. Dean feels a twitch in his groin as Cas unabashedly enjoys his food. 

Missouri returns and clears away their empty plates to make room for their servings of apple pie. The heat of the pie has melted the generous scoop of ice-cream that sits beside it. It's perfect – just how Dean likes it. 

Dean reaches eagerly for his plate, and looks up at Missouri gratefully. 

“Thanks, ma'am,” he grins cheekily. 

“You're welcome, baby. Enjoy.” 

This time, it's Cas' turn to be surprised. Dean demolishes his pie in record speed. He knows he should savour it, but he can't slow down. It's just so damn good. He groans and pats his protruding belly, sitting back in the booth. 

“Would you like to finish my piece, Dean?” 

Dean snaps his eyes up to Cas' teasing expression, and scowls. 

“Shuddup,” he mumbles. 

“I'm serious. I won't be able to finish it.” 

Dean's eyes widen gratefully, and he stretches across to nab Cas' plate. 

“Thanks, man.” 

Despite the protesting sounds gurgling from his stomach, Dean manages to finish off Cas' barely touched slice. All the while, Cas watches Dean's mouth. Dean quickly becomes sticky with melted ice-cream, and he uses his tongue to clean his lips and fingers. 

Cas' eyes flash, arousal clear as day. Dean swallows, and slowly lowers his hand from his mouth. 

“Are you ready to go?” Cas' already deep voice is impossibly lower. 

“Yeah,” Dean rasps. 

Cas reaches for his wallet, making good on his promise to pay for dinner. He puts down way too much money, leaving Missouri a generous tip. Dean smiles at that, before grabbing his leather jacket and rising from his seat. Cas does the same. Missouri notices them preparing to leave and walks over to see them off. 

“Cas, it was lovely meeting you. Dean's never brought anyone around to meet us before,” she whispers conspiratorially. 

Dean groans and blushes to the top of his head while Cas releases a soft laugh. 

“I hope to see you again,” Castiel tells her, smile broad and genuine. 

Missouri waves them away, and Dean and Cas head back outside. The air has cooled by a few degrees leaving Dean with goosebumps. Although, they could be from Cas winding his arm around Dean's waist and pressing their sides close together as they begin the walk back to Dean's apartment. 

Dean feels a spark of excitement as they make their way to his place. He's not sure if Cas wants to come inside, but Dean desperately hopes he does. His heartbeat quickens as they close the distance between them and their destination. He isn't sure how he's going to ask Cas to come up. _What if I screw it all up? Maybe I'm reading this all wrong._

Dean stops outside the entrance to his building, and Cas slides his hand away from Dean's waist. Dean sighs to himself. _Yep. Reading it wr-_

His thoughts are abruptly cut off as Cas pushes him back powerfully against the brick wall. Dean releases a soft grunt as his back hits the bricks, which is quickly swallowed up by Cas as he slants their lips together. Cas winds one hand into the hair at the base of Dean's skull, his other hand resting against Dean's hip. Dean moans, caught off guard. He reaches out with both hands to grip Cas by the lapels of his coat, keeping him in place as their mouths fight for dominance. 

Cas wins. His tongue works it's way into Dean's mouth. A jolt of electricity zaps Dean as their tongues touch, sliding against one another. Dean is helpless to Cas' touch. Their tongues stroke one another and Dean flicks his tongue against the sensitive roof of Cas' mouth. 

Cas softens the brutal pace of their kiss. His lips press one, twice, three times to Dean's before pulling away. Crappy street lighting makes it impossible to see much, but Dean is sure Cas' eyes are burning with desire. 

“If the offer still stands, I'd like to come inside now,” Cas whispers with a hoarse voice. 

Dean nods his head meaningfully. 

“Yeah, it still stands.” 

Cas leans forward slowly. His eyes stay locked on Dean's as he places a simmering kiss on Dean's lips, a taste of what's to come. 

They make it inside and up the flights of stairs with a level of restraint neither knew they possessed. Dean fumbles with the lock again, and this time Cas makes no move to help him. No, he seems content to rest his chest against Dean's back while he runs his mouth along the nape of Dean's neck. Dean shudders and tips his head down to give Cas easier access. A graze of Cas' teeth causes Dean's breath to hitch and his arousal begins to swell. 

Dean manages to get the door open and the instant it closes behind him he is pushed up against it. Cas latches his lips to Dean's neck and sucks hard, bruising the skin easily. He wraps his hands around Dean's thighs, hoisting him up and holding him steadily against the door. Dean wraps his legs around Cas' waist, groaning as his erection rubs against Castiel's toned stomach. 

“Shit, Cas. Bedroom,” Dean pants. 

Cas releases his hold which causes Dean to slide down Castiel's front. The delicious friction this creates makes it impossible for Dean to resist kissing Cas once more. He makes quick work of the buttons on Cas' coat, while Cas simultaneously pushes Dean's jacket from his shoulders. Both fall to the ground and neither make a move to pick them up from where they land. 

Dean walks past Cas and heads for his bedroom, remembering all too late the mess he left. Cas looks amused as he takes in the chaotic state of Dean's room, namely his bed. 

“Meow,” Jo says. 

“Shit,” Dean curses again. 

Jo looks like she hasn't moved a muscle. She is still lying down on Dean's pillows, and he rushes forward to lift her from her post. 

“C'mere, you little shit,” he whispers to her. 

Dean glances at Cas apologetically. “Just give me a sec,” he pleads. He takes Jo back into the lounge room and places her on the couch. “Okay, baby. You're sleeping here tonight. No, don't look at me like that. It's just _one_ night. For now. You'll be fine.” Dean leans down and kisses the top of her head chastely, before returning to his room. 

He finds Cas clearing the bed of Dean's clothes and Dean steps up to join him. 

“Sorry. I, um. Was a bit nervous earlier.” 

“So was I.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course. You're an incredible man. I consider myself very lucky to be the token of your affections.” 

Dean blushes and reaches for another shirt to place back in his closet, only to find they have cleared them all away. An awkwardness descends that wasn't there before, and Dean struggles to push it away. _What am I doing? He's too good for me. How can anything possibly work out between us? He's a good person and I'm just. Just._ Dean struggles to think of a word. 

“You're thinking too hard,” Castiel remarks. “Stop thinking, Dean. Just feel.” 

Cas takes Dean's hand and leads him to the bed. 

“Do you want to do this?” 

Dean nods. 

“No, I need you to say it out loud.” 

“Yeah, Cas. I want this.” 

“Top or bottom?” 

Dean's face burns with the abruptness of the question and he drops his gaze shyly. 

“Bottom.” 

Cas grins wolfishly and pushes Dean backward. He falls back on to the bed with a soft grunt. Before he has a chance to gather his bearings, Cas is climbing over Dean on all fours. His knees frame Dean's thighs and his hands rest next to his head. Cas sits up, ass seated on Dean's erection. Dean lets out a whimper and his hands run up Cas' thick thighs. 

“Sit up” Cas commands. 

Dean willingly obliges. Sitting up brings their faces close enough that Cas is able to count the freckles on Dean's nose. He leans forward and quickly kisses the tip of his nose. 

Dean laughs and darts forward to catch Cas' retreating lips with his own. His laugh turns into a low moan as their mouths part in a heated kiss. In this position, it's easy to feel Cas' erection. Cas grinds down, pressing their groins together and Dean releases Cas' lips to tip his head back on a sigh. 

“Arms up,” Dean instructs. 

Cas raises his arms above his head and Dean bunches Cas' shirt up in his hands, pulling the soft fabric up to reveal taut, tanned skin. He pulls it off and tosses it to the floor, eyes glued to Cas' chest. Cas dusky nipples are perked, and a light smattering of dark hair starts on his chest and leads down to a small happy trail. Dean begins to lean forward to press his lips to Cas' body, but Cas tuts. 

“Now you.” Cas motions to Dean's shirt. 

Dean reaches down and takes hold of the hem of his shirt, tugging it above his head and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

“Better,” Cas nods. 

In a fluid movement, Dean rolls them over so he is now hovering over Cas. He keeps his eyes on Cas' while he ducks his head down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his nipple. Cas' mouth falls open as Dean lavishes his nipple with his tongue. He pulls back and blows cool air against the wet skin, then moves onto his left nipple and bites down. Cas groans at that, and Dean grins up at him. 

“Evil,” Cas murmurs. 

“You have no idea.” 

Cas' eyes darken with arousal as Dean begins to kiss his way down Cas' abdomen until he reaches the top of Cas' jeans. He sits up and looks down, the sight of their erections so close together sending a rousing bolt of sensation through his body. Dean reaches down with his hand and presses his palm firmly against the outline of Cas' straining dick. Dean spends a moment learning the shape of Cas, and then moves on. He pops open the button and carefully unzips Cas' fly. 

Dean moves to side to the side of Cas as he pulls the waistband of his jeans down Cas' legs. Cas assists him, wriggling his legs until his jeans slide free. Cas gives them a kick and sends them flying. Following suit, Dean manages to wrangle his own jeans off as Cas stares openly, eyes burning with lust. Dean returns his attention to the task at hand; getting Cas naked and writhing. 

The only thing separating Dean from Cas' cock is a pair of tight, black briefs. Dean ducks his head to mouth at Cas through the cloth, and Cas rocks up into Dean, crying out. Glancing up, Dean finds Cas' eyes watching Dean intently. Dean breaks their stare to look back down at Cas' covered crotch. Scowling at the briefs, he grips them by the elastic top and pulls them down Cas' legs swiftly. 

Cas' erection bounces free and slaps against his stomach with a muted _thwack._ Dean pushes Cas' legs apart and settles between them, face level with his dripping hard-on. He studies Cas with unconcealed glee. His skin is a duskier down here. Cas' cock is fatter than Dean's own. Longer, too. Dean shivers when he thinks about having Cas seated fully inside him. It sits nestled in a bed of neatly trimmed hair. A bead of pre-come gathers at the cut head. Dean reaches out with his finger to catch it and brings his finger to his mouth. Cas groans, thrusting his hips as he seeks friction. Dean removes his finger from his mouth and looks up at Cas. 

Without breaking eye contact, Dean leans forward and takes just the head between his lips, sucking gently. 

“Dean,” Cas breathes. “More.” 

Dean parts his lips wider and in one fell swoop he sinks to the base of Cas' cock. Cas tastes musky on Dean's tongue, and he fucking loves it. Dean does not go gentle on Cas. He starts up a brutal rhythm, hands pressing into Cas' hips to hold him steady. Dean slides his mouth up and down, tongue swirling around Cas' head on each pass. Cas sighs shakily and threads his hands in Dean's hair, using it as leverage to control Dean's pace. Dean moans at a particularly hard tug, parting his legs to straddle one of Cas' legs. He slowly humps his covered erection against Cas, continuing to suck him all the way down. 

Dean releases Cas with a pop. He uses his hand to jack Cas off slowly – unhurried in his actions –while he tongues Cas' slit. He continues like this for a while until he misses the weight of Cas on his tongue. He slides his mouth back down, Cas' hitting the back of his throat. The sudden change of pace leaves Cas breathless. 

“Fuck, Dean. Look so good like that. Lips were made for sucking cock. Ah,” Cas gasps. “Just like that. God, I can't wait to fuck you.” Cas is barely conscious of the garbled words leaving his mouth. 

Dean moans around Cas at his words, and Cas cries out at the sensation. Cas starts to thrust upward, meeting Dean on every downward pass of his heated mouth. Dean gags around Cas but does not stop, loving every minute of it. He can feel his own saliva and Cas' pre-come leaking out of his mouth and sliding down his chin. 

“Shit. You have to stop Dean. I'm gonna come. Argh,” Cas groans and Dean begins to suck with intent. 

Dean creates a suction that makes Cas' vision go blurry, and Dean can sense he has reached his tipping point. Abruptly, he pulls off and squeezes the base of Cas' dick firmly, halting his impending orgasm. Cas does not react outwardly, lying still, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Ass,” he mutters. Dean grins and wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. “Get up here, Dean.” 

Dean does, but first drags his own briefs off. He lazily jacks himself, spreading his pre-come around. 

When Dean is hovering above Cas' lips, he smiles down at him. Cas grips the back of Dean's head and drags him down into a deep kiss, mouths open and tongues stroking. Cas has got to be able to taste himself, and Dean can't help growing more excited knowing that he tastes like Cas. Cas breaks the kiss, panting into Dean's mouth. 

“Lube and condoms?” 

“Left bedside table, top drawer.” 

“On your hands and knees, Dean.” 

Dean shivers at Cas' words and moves to position himself while Cas rummages around in his top drawer. Dean rests his weight on his elbows and knees, legs spread and back arched. He presses his forehead into the pillow beneath him, excitement coursing through his veins. 

Dean loves this part. He loves feeling the burn as he's stretched open. He loves feeling exposed and vulnerable, unable to see what's happening behind him and forced to rely solely on his other senses. He hears a rustle behind him, and the bed dips as Cas returns. 

Dean jumps at the feeling of a dry fingertip pressing against his pucker. 

"So beautiful,” Cas murmurs. 

Cas' finger is gone, and replaced by something much hotter, and much wetter. 

“Fuck,” Dean groans loudly. _That's Cas' tongue._

Cas begins with kitten licks at his entrance, using the tip of his tongue to trace the wrinkled skin. He progresses to large swipes with the flat of his tongue, and Dean shivers at the sensation. Cas' tongue is best thing Dean has ever felt, he thinks. He struggles to breathe as Cas continues his assault. Sparks are flying behind Dean's closed eyelids, and he moans loudly. 

When Cas points his tongue to flex the muscle and pushes it inside Dean, he loses it. His hips start thrusting back, fucking himself on Cas' tongue without reservation. He wails loudly, a repeated chant of Cas' name mixed in with a few choice curse words. Cas uses his hands to grip Dean's ass, spreading his cheeks wide and forcing his face as close as he can get to Dean's ass. 

Dean feels his untouched cock dribbling pre-come steadily onto his bed sheets, a wet patch surely forming. Just as Dean lifts a hand to grasp his throbbing dick, Cas grabs Dean's hand to stop him. 

“No, Dean,” Cas pauses feasting on Dean's hole. “Not yet. Focus on this. I want you to feel everything I'm doing.” 

Dean groans helplessly, but listens. He lowers his elbow back to the bed, pushing his face into the pillow to muffle his scream as Cas reaches down to pull Dean's scrotum into his mouth. Cas rolls his balls in his mouth and sucks on them with a gentle pressure that drives Dean crazy. 

While Dean is busy moaning and writhing into the bed, Cas has lubed up a single finger and presses it to Dean's now wet and relaxed pucker. Dean gasps and stills, waiting eagerly for the push of Castiel's finger. Cas releases Dean's balls and bites Dean's right ass cheek, teeth sharply digging into Dean's skin and making him whimper. He releases the skin and sits back on his knees behind Dean, finger still resting against Dean's wanting hole. 

Cas places the slightest amount of pressure, and Dean opens up, greedily swallowing Cas' finger. He pumps his finger in and out a few times and Dean squirms restlessly. 

“Another one. I can take it.” 

Cas withdraws his first finger to add more lube, and then he's pressing two fingers inside Dean. Dean sighs happily, his muscles feeling a slight burn at the stretch. It's been a long time since anyone other than Dean has had their fingers up his ass, and it's better than he could have hoped for. 

It's silent, save for the wet noises that come from a wet channel and moving digits, and Deans soft little puffs of breath. 

“Are you ready for a third finger?” 

“Yeah, Cas. 'M ready,” Dean mumbles. 

Cas leaves his fingers halfway inside, but drizzles more lube on. With the third finger comes a sting that makes Dean hiss, but his cock twitches at the feeling. There's something about it, being filled up where he's normally empty, that drives Dean wild. Cas moves slowly, but determinedly, his sights set on someth- 

“Holy shit,” Dean wheezes as Cas skims his prostate. Cas doesn't retreat, his fingers massaging deep inside Dean, and Dean pushes his hips back against Cas' fingers. 

“Right there, oh God, that's it.” He cries out as the sensation builds. He feels his cock twitch as another spurt of pre-come dribbles out. An incredible feeling gathers in the pit of his stomach, brewing towards a big storm. 

“More. I need more.” Cas starts to add a fourth finger, but Dean stops him. “Not that. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me.” 

“Fuck, yes,” Cas groans. 

He removes all his fingers and Dean's hole is left gaping wide. Dean hears the sound of a foil package being torn open. The lid of the lube clicks open, and Dean imagines Cas applying it to his own cock, jerking himself lazily. 

“Like this?” Cas asks, kneeling behind Dean and running his hands down his sides. 

Dean shakes his head and rolls onto his back, spreading his legs wide so Cas can slot between them. “Like this. I wanna see you.” 

Cas' eyes soften and he moves his torso so he is pressed up against Dean's chest. Using one hand to balance his weight, he cups his other to Dean's cheek and drops a gentle kiss to his lips. 

Cas keeps his dilated eyes on Dean's as he reaches down with one hand to guide himself to Dean's entrance. Dean's legs are open wide, feet planted firmly on the bed. He tilts his hips up as Cas lines up at Dean's entrance, and drops his head back against the pillow. He watches Cas through hooded eyes, and they both exhale shakily as Cas pushes forward, breeching Dean's hole. 

Dean groans loudly. Cas may have stretched him open, but three fingers does not compare to the girth of Cas' cock. Cas thrusts forward slowly, but surely, and doesn't stop until he is buried to the hilt. Dean pants, loving the feel of Cas inside him. He squeezes his inner muscles experimentally around Cas, who cries out in ecstasy. Cas doesn't move yet. He ducks his head down to rest his forehead in the crook of Dean's neck, savouring this feeling. Dean wraps his arms around Cas' back, sliding his hands down and landing on his ass. He gives Cas' plump cheeks and squeeze, and Cas huffs a laugh before lifting his head up to look into Dean's eyes. 

“Pushy,” Cas says humorously, a twinkle in his eyes. 

Before Dean can even open his mouth to respond, Cas pulls out to the tip, and snaps his hips forward. Dean's breath leaves him in a rush. The sudden movement pushes the headboard of Dean's bed thumping into the wall, and Dean hopes his neighbours are either out or already asleep. 

Cas begins to fuck into Dean, and Dean tilts his hips up to meet Cas on every thrust. Each time Cas bottoms out, Dean can't help but let out a moan. Cas feel so _good,_ it's impossible for him to stay silent. Cas' dark blue eyes are glued to Dean's forest green eyes, their breath mingling in the small space between their open mouths. 

Cas reaches down to grip Dean's thighs, and he lifts his legs up higher. In this position, Dean has no leverage to thrust up against Cas, so instead, he clenches around Cas. Cas releases a low groan and buries his head in Dean's shoulders, latching onto his skin with his teeth. He resumes his fucking, hips moving fluidly into Dean. After a few minutes of this, he lifts Dean's hips higher and hits his prostate dead-on. 

“Yes! Theretherethere, don't stop!” 

An indescribable feeling spreads through Dean's body, centred around his pelvis. Cas's balls slap against Dean's ass every time they join. There is an earthy scent in the air, a mix of sweat and pre-come and sex, and Dean can't get enough of it. This is how sex should be. Messy and imperfect and real. 

“Dean, I'm close,” Cas gasps out, panting. He pounds into Dean with force, driving Dean further up the bed and hitting his prostate on every. Singe. Thrust. Dean can barely form a coherent thought, too absorbed in the sensations shooting throughout his entire body. 

Cas grabs one of Dean's hand with his own, lacing their fingers together while his other hand wraps around Dean's cock. He uses Dean's pre-come to smooth the way, jacking him in time to their pounding hips. Dean groans and wraps his legs around Cas, heels digging into Cas's ass and pulling him in closer with every thrust. 

Dean's orgasm hits him like a ten-tonne truck. His body seizes up, his eyes fall closed, and he screams out Cas' name. A blinding white heat sears his body, and he feels his dick shooting spurts of come in between their bodies. Cas doesn't stop fucking him through the entirety of his climax, hand squeezing every last drop of ejaculate out of Dean. 

Exhausted, Dean's legs fall back to the bed, and he flexes his muscles around Cas. Cas moans and Dean whispers in his ear “Come for me.” Cas does, and hard. His hips stop thrusting, and he stays buried inside Dean, small, rolling movements of his hips pushing him through his own orgasm. It seems endless as his cock jerks out spurt after spurt of come, Dean's channel milking him for all he's worth. He flops down on top of Dean, gasping for breath. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out. 

Cas laughs rather breathlessly, and lifts his head to look at Dean. Dean's face is covered in a sheen of sweat, a flush extends beyond his cheeks, down onto his neck and fades out over his chest in irregular splotches. Cas leans down, and Dean raises his lips to meet him in the middle. 

It's a slow kiss, all the heat from earlier gone, but full of affection and warmth. Dean sighs against Cas and Cas presses his thumb to Dean's bottom lip. 

As Cas fully softens, he pulls out of Dean. Dean winces at the sensation and Cas, in tune with Dean's thoughts, reaches down to slip one finger inside Dean, allowing him to adjust to being empty slowly. 

Dean smiles in thanks, and after another moment, Cas pulls his finger out. 

“Bathroom?” Cas asks. 

Dean points to the door next to his closet, and Cas rolls out of bed and walks over. He returns not long after, condom disposed of, and with a wet wash cloth. Dean reaches to take the cloth from Cas, but Cas shakes his head. 

“I want to,” Cas murmurs. 

Cas runs the cloth gently over Dean's abdomen, sticky with sweat and come. He wipes between Dean's legs, cleaning up the remnants of lube, before returning to the bathroom to dispose of the cloth. 

Dean stretches his aching muscles out, waiting for Cas to return. He does, and climbs into bed and slides in behind Dean. Cas wraps his arms tightly around Dean, his chest to Dean's back. Their legs tangle together, and Dean turns his head around to peek at Cas. 

Cas' eyes are half closed, looking like he's ready to fall asleep. Dean can't resist leaning over and pressing a kiss to Cas' soft lips. Cas smiles into it, and Dean turns back around. He burrows into Cas' warmth, feeling more safe and cared for than he has in years. 

“Good night, Cas,” Dean whispers into the silence. 

“Good night, Dean,” Cas whispers back sleepily. 

Dean drifts to sleep with a smile on his face, and he dreams of a man with bright blue eyes and messy hair 


	2. Epilogue

Dean feels a wet nuzzling against his cheek, and he smiles sleepily. 

“Mornin', baby,” he mumbles. 

When Dean hears no response, he cracks an eye open and finds Jo peering at him expectantly. 

“Shit,” Dean laughs. “How'd you get in? I could've sworn we closed the door last night.” 

A lump under the bedspread wriggles, and Cas' head peeks out. His eyes are barely open and his ruffled hair speaks volumes about last nights activities. 

“Why is it so loud out here?” Cas grouches, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Jo sneaked in.”

“Again?” 

“Yup. Gotta install a security camera or something.” 

Cas snorts in amusement and rolls over, burrowing into Dean's side. He rests his head on Dean's shoulder, and Dean ducks down to press a kiss to Castiel's forehead. 

“Gotta pick Gabe up from the airport today,” Dean reminds Cas. “And Sam said he and Jess are gonna drive up. They don't wanna put baby Mary on a plane just yet. Worried about her immune system or something. They'll probably get here some time tomorrow.”

Cas hums in acknowledgement.

Dean feels a rush of love for his boyfriend, and turns onto his side so their faces are level. Dean reaches out and drags Cas in, his hands skimming along Cas' bare torso. 

“Is Gabe staying at ours this time?” Dean's voice is soft, trying to avoid disturbing the lazy peacefulness of the quiet morning. 

Cas smiles wryly. 

“No. He said we scarred him for life last time he was here. He's going to stay in a motel.”

Dean grins happily at that.

“It's his own fault for ignoring the sock on the door. Everyone knows that means sexy-times are happening.” 

Cas smiles his big, toothy grin that reveals his pink gums, and Dean's heart skips a beat.

It's been almost a year since Dean met Cas, and he still can't believe his luck. His life is so different to this time last year. Christmas is barely a week away, and instead of planning a meal for one, Dean has a whole tribe to cater for. 

He attributes it all to Cas. All the good in his life has somehow stemmed from him. 

As Dean gazes lovingly into Cas' eyes, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Marry me.”

Cas freezes, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Marry me, Cas. I was gonna ask you on Christmas Eve, but I can't wait any longer. I love you. I love you so fucking much and I wanna spend every morning waking up with you like this.” Dean's eyes are shining with devotion. “Marry me.”

Cas' breath hitches and he lurches forward. His arms wrap around Dean's neck and he peppers affectionate kisses all over Dean's face. 

“Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes, you assbutt. You beat me to it. I was going to propose to you.” 

“When?” Dean asks, voice breathless from happy laughter. 

“Christmas Eve.”

They share a tender smile, and Cas kisses Dean's plump lips, pouring every ounce of love into it. They remain like that for a while, lips joint, until Cas leans back to look intently into Dean's eyes.

“Thank you,” Cas whispers with sincerity.

“For what?”

“For stepping into my shelter.”

A wave of adoration for Cas crashes over Dean, and he looks at Cas, enamoured. 

“Thank you, too. “

Cas smiles lightly and mimics Dean.

“For what?”

“For making me the happiest man alive.”

 

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for reading this, it means so much to me. if you liked it, please leave kudos ^-^
> 
> Twitter: @buttercupcas


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